Family Holiday
by Supermorff
Summary: Logan tries his hand at parenting by taking X23 to Japan. But while Wolverine deals with memories of Sabretooth and a girl named Mariko, a new enemy is waiting for him... the Silver Samurai!
1. Chapter 1: Teaser

Logan tries his hand at parenting by taking X23 to Japan. As Wolverine deals with memories of Sabretooth and a girl named Mariko, a new enemy is waiting for him… the Silver Samurai!

**Spoiler Warning:** Minor spoilers for 'X-Men: Evolution episodes' featuring X23, and some Wolverine backstory episodes such as 'Grim Reminder'.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters or the places or, well, anything X-Men. Probably Marvel's, despite the insistence of some that they are the exclusive property of Stan Lee.

* * *

X23 dashed between the trees, batting aside branches as she ran, ignoring the cuts that they left on her hands and face. Those cuts would heal by themselves soon enough. All six of her metal claws were out, two on each of her hands and one on each of her feet, and she was using them to hack and slash at the foliage, cutting herself a path through the forest. She was leaving a trail that any amateur tracker could follow, and the one chasing her was anything but amateur. But being found wasn't her concern at the moment. She just needed to put some distance between herself and her pursuer. She could hear his animalistic snarls, getting closer all the time. She was faster, and working on pure adrenaline, but he had more strength and experience, and she was laying down the path for him to follow.

Using claws on her right hand she scored two deep grooves in a tree trunk, and grinned as she heard it collapse behind her. That should slow the old man down a bit. Not a chance. The tree practically exploded into splinters as he sliced it into smaller pieces, easily opening the way through again. She didn't look back - that cost precious seconds - but instead vaulted over the next rock she came to and hit the ground running.

He had every advantage she had. She had six adamantium claws, and so did he. She had an advanced healing factor that closed wounds in minutes, and he had one that worked even faster. She had an acute sense of smell, and he had one that had been honed after years of use, and even now he had her scent. And he probably didn't have long, lanky black hair that got in his face and irritated his eyes, she thought again, blowing upwards to move the strand that tickled her nose. All these traits she had inherited from him, the man who followed her, her father, Wolverine.

Technically he wasn't her father. She didn't really have a father, because she was a clone… Wolverine's clone. She wasn't identical to him, because of some genetic tampering, but she was similar enough to have undergone the adamantium bonding process, and as with Wolverine it was a pain in her past that had not healed, and likely it would never heal despite her mutant gifts. They had met each other only recently, but he consented to treat her like a daughter and she desperately wanted to treat him like a father. Or she had, until now. Now she just wanted to get away.

So occupied with her pursuer, she didn't notice the clearing until she had run into it, out into the sunshine, the tree canopy left behind her. She gasped in shock at the sight that greeted her. There was a pagoda building with paper-thin doors and a gong by the entrance, and the members of some monastic order walking to and fro. None of them gave her a second glance, as if having leather-clad feral girls with metal claws bursting out of the woods was an everyday occurrence, and nothing to be surprised about. Almost subconsciously, she allowed the claws to retract, and winced at the momentary pain as the exit wounds healed over.

She gasped again when she sensed Wolverine step through the treeline just behind her, and spun to face him. He held up a fist in front of his chest, and as she watched his claws retracted too. He'd learned to ignore that pain, by now.

"Nice try, kid," he said to her, lowering his arms and stepping closer. "But we're going to have family fun if it kills me."

* * *

This story was originally conceived as a part of a longer story in the style of an episode from the television series, complete with multiple interwoven plotlines. When it became clear that what I intended had no chance of fitting into a 3 Act structure, and since this medium doesn't require such constraints anyway, it was split up into separate stories. The only chapter that has remained largely intact since that original idea is this one, which was always the 'teaser' of the piece. I hope it satisfies.


	2. Chapter 2

I have never been to Japan, though I've wished to. I hope that, in my ignorance, I have not too badly misrepresented the landscape and culture of the country.

Italics indicate flashbacks in this and all subsequent chapters.

* * *

Logan, the Wolverine, took a glance at the temple building and back to the girl in front of him. There was a rock garden off to the right, with grey amorphous rocks breaking the tranquillity of the raked sand around them. It was quite large, and even now two monks were tending it, quietly, stoically.

"At least you found a nice spot to come and sulk."

"I'm not sulking!" she protested, but Logan seemed unconvinced.

"Uh huh. Care to explain why you ran off like that?"

"You've been crowding me ever since we got here!"

"That's kinda the point of this vacation, isn't it?"

"I didn't ask you to come here, you know!"

"Yeah, and I didn't ask you here either, but here we are. Let's just enjoy the moment while it lasts, okay, kid?"

"And don't call me kid! I have a name!"

"Right, Laura, sorry. Look, it's nothin' personal. I call everyone kid… or bub… or lady. You ain't lady yet, and you certainly ain't bub, so just learn to live with it, okay?"

There was a moment of silence, neither of them entirely certain what to say. They were embarking on what was, essentially, their first family vacation. Vacationing together was something that parents did with their children, but neither one had any experience of how it was supposed to go. Where the idea had come from neither really knew. It seemed to have just evolved out of nothing, from telephone calls and fly-by meetings they'd had in the last month or so. The idea of going to Japan, though, that was Logan.

During the quiet, Laura started to take in her surroundings. Cherry blossom trees dotted the courtyard, and there were wooden ceremonial arches that led out from the temple's main entrance and down a flight of stone steps carved into the side of the hill.

"So…" she tried after a time. "You've been here before?"

"Yeah, once, back when I still worked for SHIELD."

"What happened?"

"Well, SHIELD received an anonymous tip-off that the mutant Sabretooth had been spotted in Japan. They didn't think it was worth risking an international incident with Japan over him, but I was never one to listen to good advice. He'd been after me ever since Canada and my escape from Weapon X, and I wanted answers about what had happened to me, and maybe I wanted to get even. I ran myself near to exhaustion chasing him across the countryside…"

------------------------------

_Wolverine was dead on his feet. He knew it, even as he forced himself onwards, throwing himself bodily through the trees, trying to pick up Sabretooth's trail. He hadn't slept for days, and despite his mutant abilities the deprivation was getting to him, slowing his reflexes and dulling his senses. He was getting closer, he knew it. He had to be, although Sabretooth knew how to cover his tracks. But every time Wolverine considered giving up, resting, closing his eyes for just a minute, he found another footprint, a broken twig, some indication that Sabretooth had passed this way recently, and he pressed on again. Since he'd arrived in this country, Sabretooth had been standing on the horizon, taunting him, waiting for him to make just a little ground to taunt him again. It was a game of Cat and Mouse, and up until now Wolverine had been convinced that _he_ was the cat. Now he was the mouse, and Sabretooth was just playing with his food._

_In fact, it had been going on since before Japan, ever since… what? He wasn't sure. Vast stretches of memory were gone, but he did know that Sabretooth had been dogging him ever since he awoke, mindless and naked, in the Canadian wilderness, with these metal claws that tore his hands apart whenever he became angry. Back then he'd been the pursued, kept confused and scared by the baying of the hound on his tail. Now he was the hound, and Sabretooth his prey, so why did Sabretooth seem to have all the advantages? Why wasn't it Sabretooth that found himself tripping over every tangled root, fighting as hard to stay conscious as he was to find his enemy?_

_When Wolverine had been recruited into SHIELD, the confrontations with Sabretooth had only lulled slightly, but not stopped. Now, here in Japan, Wolverine had no SHIELD support at all and Sabretooth was more persistent than ever. Wolverine wondered if that had been Sabretooth's plan all along, to draw Wolverine out from whatever protection SHIELD offered, and if it was then he had fallen for it hook, line and sinker._

_He caught the scent again, stronger than before, and pushed on again with new vigour. A part of him was aware that he should stop, that even if he found Sabretooth right now he was in no fit state to fight him, but in his weariness higher thought was overruled by instinct, and instinct told him that Sabretooth was nearby and deserved to die. Shadows flitted by at the edges of his vision but he found he couldn't focus on them. That wasn't surprising. He hadn't been able to focus properly on anything for several hours, and sounds seemed to reach him through layers of padding. Only his nose still functioned properly, but he was having trouble following a trail by scent alone, and Sabretooth's rank odour was getting more pungent by the second._

_There was a rustling and a roar, but by the time Wolverine realised how close his enemy was, Sabretooth was already on him. Wolverine tried swiping with his claws, but Sabretooth was too fast, dodged them easily, slashing across his arms and chest and face, and laughed at Wolverine's feeble attempts to defend himself. Somewhere in the past hundred miles the last ounce of anger had been beaten out of him, and without his berserker rage to keep him going he lacked the energy to even stand, let alone match Sabretooth in a fight._

_"What's the matter, runt?" Sabretooth taunted, slamming Wolverine down onto the underbrush. "I thought you came here to fight!" He laughed again as he kicked Wolverine in the ribs._

_Wolverine tried to lunge, all six claws aiming at his assailant, but no good. Sabretooth batted them aside, grabbed him by his tattered uniform and hurled him through the tree line. He landed on a dirt road that cut through the wood, and the sudden sunlight through the canopy opening hurt his eyes so he clenched them shut. The pain kept him awake for now, though he wished it wouldn't, and he heard Sabretooth step onto the road after him._

_"Time to finish it, runt."_

_And then… he heard another voice. An older man, though he couldn't understand the words, and barely registered that this was because they were spoken in Japanese and not in English. A new shadow passed across his face and he opened his eyes in time to see a large silver blur pass between him and Sabretooth, but they refused to stay open long enough to witness what followed. He heard the sounds of a scuffle, and Sabretooth grunted in indignation._

_And then everything was silent, Sabretooth's scent started to fade, and something soft was tucked under his head. He forced his eyelids open again, and was rewarded with a wondrous vision. A radiant goddess knelt over him, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and haloed by the midday sun. Her scent was heavenly after so long in isolation, and obliterated Sabretooth completely. She stroked his forehead and whispered soothing, unintelligible words. When one finally came through that he understood, he was only too glad to obey._

_"Sleep."_

------------------------------

Logan paused in his tale as one of the monks broke away from his brothers around the temple and walked towards them. He was completely bald, but distinguished from other bald men like Xavier by the fact that his head was covered with wrinkled skin. When he smiled at them, his whole face creased up.

"It is good to see you again, Logan-san," he said, in what Laura judged to be remarkably good English. Logan bowed to him, bending stiffly at the waist, and Laura nervously followed suit, watching him out of the corner of her eye to check her imitation.

"Sensei, it's has been many years." The old monk waved a hand in dismissal.

"Pah. I am an old man. Years pass quickly. And who are you, child?"

"X… uh… Laura."

"Welcome, Laura-san. It is always nice to see new faces at the temple. She is your daughter, Logan-san?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"I am happy for you. I can already tell you have changed much since your last visit here. Will you be staying long?"

"A week, maybe. I've got responsibilities at home."

"Ah, then we must find you a sleeping space for your stay. Please."

The old man guided them towards the temple, and Logan and Laura fell in step behind.

"Who were they?" she asked him while they were still crossing the courtyard. "The people that rescued you, I mean."

"It was a powerful local businessman named Shingen Harada and his family, on a sort of pilgrimage. Shingen considered himself to be the last of the true samurai in Japan, very old fashioned but a skilled swordsman. He'd thought Sabretooth was a demon, so he just drew his sword and stepped in to save me. Sabretooth did run off, but I suspect he was just surprised. And once he was gone, they put me on the wagon train and brought me here."

"So the woman was…?"

"His daughter, Mariko. She was… beautiful, and kind, and smart… very special. I was pretty tired, but every time I woke up she was there, looking after me." The look in his eye as he remembered the woman was strange, Laura had to admit. Nostalgic, even wistful, and she'd never seen Logan look that way before. Few people had. "You know, this was the first place I'd ever really felt any sort of peace after Weapon X. The first time before I went to live at the Xavier Institute that I felt like I belonged."

"Do you think you'll meet any of them again, while you're here?" And all of a sudden the look had gone.

"Huh. I doubt it. It was a long time ago, and none of them are gonna be thrilled to see me. No, this vacation is just going to be nice and relaxing and dull. Just what you need."

------------------------------

Kenichi Harada knelt at the low desk, arm straight in front of him, painting calligraphy with the tip of a brush. He was quite skilled at it. He couldn't compare to the true masters of the art, many of whose works he had hanging up in niches around the room, but he enjoyed it and was proud of his ability. It was nice to have a place such as this office, even in the middle of Tokyo, where he could come to concentrate on simple pursuits and develop his mind. This office, in fact this entire penthouse level of the high-rise building, had been converted for his private use. It served as his home-away-from-home while he was in Tokyo on business, and even though it was not quite the aesthetic perfection of his country estate, it had its own charm. Like his father before him, Kenichi considered himself to be a true samurai, in a time when the samurai class was all but extinct, and true samurai cultivated an appreciation of this kind of simple beauty.

Kenichi knew that a great many businessmen thought he was an eccentric fool, as did many of his own employees. He did not care. None of them dared to voice that opinion. Even if they were on their own, they knew that somehow he would find out, and then his… corrective retribution would be swift and brutal. After all, that was precisely how he had silenced concerns that he was too young to take his father's place as CEO of the Harada business empire. Nobody questioned him about his age any more. Harada Shingen had believed that, because he had his underlings call him Shingen-sama, that meant they respected him. Kenichi was rather more progressive. He knew that the only sure way to earn somebody's respect was to earn it through might of arms and a show of force.

A shadow moved across his panelled doorway, and he called for the supplicant to enter, never taking his eyes or his brush off the paper in front of him. It was the man named Noichi who entered, himself well feared after long service under Kenichi. It was Noichi's people that kept Harada's business private, by ensuring that authorities and rivals maintained the proper level of respect. When an insult was made to Kenichi or the company, it was Noichi's department that rectified it and retrieved the apology. He also served as a line of communication between Kenichi and his less legal associates.

That was another lesson he had learned from his father. Shingen had understood the necessity of breaking the law in order to regain the power and prestige that his family had lost over the years. Shingen had made backdoor arrangements, played the game of give-and-take for underworld bosses, but he'd never gone far enough. Kenichi, on the other hand, had immersed himself completely in the city's seedy underbelly, and he had emerged transformed, as a crime lord. He made front door deals without fear, mere underworld bosses now played _his_ games of give-and-take, and his business empire had flourished because of it.

Noichi stood before the low table in a smartly-pressed pinstripe suit and bowed. Kenichi still concentrated on his writing, but indicated that Noichi could speak.

"Harada-san, a name on the blacklist has been found entering the country."

"Very good, Noichi-san. How much does he owe us?"

"He does not owe us money, Harada-san."

"Is he a traitor?"

"No, Harada-san."

"Then why is he on the blacklist?"

"We do not know. He is an American called Logan."

Kenichi's brush slipped a fraction of a millimetre. It was hardly noticeable, but already he knew that he would destroy the paper and start over. He set down the brush on the table. Logan… It had been years since he'd heard that name. In fact, he'd thought to never hear it again, and yet here the man was, back in Kenichi's country.

"What should be done?"

"Do nothing, Noichi-san. You have done well in telling me, but I wish to deal with this matter myself." Noichi bowed again, took one step backwards, then turned and left the room. Once he was gone, Kenichi rose from his kneeling position and stood. Hanging in an alcove in one of the walls was a suit of samurai armour, all interlocking plates, steel and silk. The metal shone like silver, with a red sunburst on the chest, and on the kabuto helmet was the crest of the Harada family. Kenichi allowed himself a small smile.

"I have you now, Logan-san. At last, the Silver Samurai will have his revenge."

* * *

Fans of the mainstream comics might be interested to note that, along with other changes to the backstory, I have altered Silver Samurai's given name to better represent his subtly different relationship with his father. (Also, it's easier to spell.)

And while it doesn't have much bearing on this story, you might be interested to know that X23 receives the name Laura in my other story, 'Kid 23'.

UPDATE 7/01/07 (in response to Kaori's review for the previous chapter, which I could not respond to directly): For this story, and my other stories from the 'X-Men: Evolution' universe, I have only used information provided in the fifty-two episodes of the series (adapting elements from the comics or other continuities only when I felt it appropriate). X23's possession of a full adamantium skeleton is not contradicted in the series as it has been in the comics (it is even implied by Dr Risman in 'X23'), and that is that interpretation of her background that I have used for this story. As for the speed of her healing factor, that entire paragraph is from X23's point of view, and since up to this date she and Logan have never sat down and compared healing speeds, she may just be wrong. Or she may not. I hope this satisfies any questions raised in that review.


	3. Chapter 3

It was hard watching X23… Laura… trying to get to sleep. When she was on her feet, focussed on the task at hand, whatever it might be, she could ignore it for a while, but in the dark and the quiet, her pain showed through clearly. She sobbed for a long while, curled herself into a ball. Even when she _was_ sleeping, she still tossed and turned, growled and whimpered. Sometimes she screamed. Logan knew those dreams. He'd had them most nights for several decades. They were his only glimpse into his time in the Weapon X program, when they had treated him like a base animal, subjected him to gruesome tests, and grafted hot metal onto his bones. Laura had been through the very same, but at such a tender age, and unlike her father, she retained all of those memories even while awake. How much worse her dreams were than his, Logan could only imagine.

Now she was still, eyes clenched and all her muscles tensed up as if she expected an attack. Perhaps in her mind she did. Her knuckles were white as they gripped the blanket he'd pulled over her, and beneath the pale skin he could see the metal claws shift back and forth. He desperately wanted to wake her, to tell her that she was okay and safe, and those horrible people couldn't hurt her any more. But he knew it wouldn't help. It had never helped him. And she did need sleep. Carefully, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and one by one her muscles began to relax. Satisfied that for a while she might get some rest, he stood and walked to the door, where Sensei was waiting for him.

"I remember another visitor here who had as much trouble sleeping as that poor girl. Your family seems to attract pain." There was no point in denying it.

"It would be best if nobody disturbed her. I don't know what she might do if she wakes up in the middle of one of her dreams."

"You fear she might hurt herself?"

"I'm more concerned about her hurting other people. She… we… have these… abilities…"

"You are mutants. Yes, I know." Logan just stared at him, surprised. "Do not be so shocked, Logan-san. We may live in a secluded village, but sometimes news from the outside world does reach us even here." The old man flashed a grin. "Sometimes we even get television."

"But… how did you know?"

"It was not hard to work out, Logan-san. I remember the last time you visited. You do not look any different now than you did then. You healed faster than is possible for a normal human, and you could follow a trail so well without any visible sign. And, of course, you have metal claws, which you rarely hid as well as you supposed. Are metal claws normal among mutants, may I ask?"

"No. We're the only two that have them." Sensei nodded.

Laura whimpered, and twisted over onto her side. The dreams were back.

"Your daughter is very much like you, Logan-san."

"Can you help her? The way you helped me?"

"How did we help you, Logan-san?"

"I don't know. While I was here, those dreams didn't seem as bad. For the briefest time, I found peace."

"If you recall, we were not the only positive influence on you during your last visit. And perhaps you were ready for peace. It cannot be forced on somebody that does not want it. If she is to make progress here, as you did, then she will need your love, and your support."

"I understand, Sensei."

"Then I suggest you get some sleep yourself, Logan-san, however troubled it may be. We know what may happen if you push yourself too hard."

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_With a smile and boundless patience, she asked him to lift up his arms so that she could reach the bandages around his torso. And then, in case he could not understand some of her Japanese, she motioned with her own hands and, in English, told him: "Up." He did so, and tried to conceal a snarl of pain when his arms rose above his shoulder. Why did it still hurt? It had been days now since Logan had been brought to the temple, and, even though he'd been badly beaten, his healing factor usually had him feeling as good as new in that time. But then he'd never been driven to such exhaustion before. It was as if his healing factor could not decide which to tackle first, the physical trauma or the tiredness, and had settled on neither. But gritting his teeth he held his arms over his head, while she delicately unwound the strips of gauze they'd bound him with. Once it was all off, her soft hands pressed into his skin, probing the damage done to his flesh and bone, sending shivers all through him. And then, just as carefully, she wound out a new set of bandages and secured them about his chest. When she was done, he lowered his arms, twisted gently this way and that, judging the tightness. It was expertly done._

_"Thank you," he said. "Domo arigato gozaimasu." She smiled. It was very cute when her cheeks turned that shade of red._

_"Do itashimashite. You are welcome."_

_Her name was Mariko, the woman that cared for him, although on seeing her he'd immediately known her as that radiant goddess who'd knelt over him before he slept. Since he was brought here she'd spent much of her time with him in the small room they'd given him for resting. Communication had been… difficult at first. She spoke mainly Japanese and he mainly English, although he'd learned a spattering of words on the journey from America. Their only translator was one of the priests, an amiable man with wrinkles beginning to show on his face, and with his remaining hair in a small patch behind his ears. Over time, though, with little else to do, they'd started teaching each other the basics of their respective languages, and soon they were able to exchange pleasantries and hold short conversations in an odd mix of both. She was quick-witted and intelligent, not to mention kind and funny and refined, and Logan found that the longer he spent with her the more he enjoyed her company._

_Mariko's father was Harada Shingen, the same man they said had saved him from Sabretooth. Logan had not met the man, although he had seen him occasionally while walking around the temple grounds. He was a stern man with stern features, his hair up in a topknot, and he was always attired in the formal wear of the old samurai class: a sleeveless jacket with unnaturally wide shoulders over his kimono, and on his legs a garment resembling a wide, divided skirt. Sometimes he was followed by a young boy, no more than ten years old, dressed precisely the same, who had to run on short legs in order to keep pace with him. Whenever Logan saw the old man, whether he was with Mariko or not, Shingen ignored him utterly, walking briskly to get to whatever destination he had in mind. Logan wondered if he had done something to upset the man, and resolved to ask Mariko about it._

_"Is your father avoiding me, Mariko?" he asked her in his best Japanese. She turned away from him but did not answer. "What's wrong?"_

_"My father has insulted you by his actions," she said with surprising venom. "He believes it is improper… not right for me to spend time with you."_

_"Why?"_

_"He does not like foreigners, and he especially does not like Americans."_

_"How does he feel about Canadians?" The corners of her mouth tilted upwards._

_"I do not think he will appreciate the difference, Logan-san."_

_"Has he told you not to see me?"_

_"He has not said so. You are a guest here, and father brought you here. It would dishonour him to withhold any hospitality. Yet he has… hinted that he disapproves."_

_"So by being here you are going against his wishes?" She wore a sly grin the next she met his eyes._

_"I could never disobey my father, Logan-san, but until he tells me to stop seeing you, there is no such order for me to disobey. So I think I will keep seeing you. I enjoy these times we have together."_

_"Me too, Mariko. Me too."_

------------------------------

_Days passed, and Logan healed, until finally he felt well enough to leave the temple and resume his hunt for Sabretooth. The wild mutant already had a considerable head start, and Logan did not look forward to making up that ground. Somewhere out there, over the horizon, Sabretooth was taunting him. Still, he remained at the temple for a while longer, saying goodbye and thank you to those who had looked after him. None of them were happy that he had to leave. A doctor was brought up from the nearest town, and even though he gave Logan a clean bill of health, still suggested a few more days' rest. The monks cautioned him not to perpetuate the cycle of hatred that drove him. Only Shingen seemed willing to let him go, but still advised him to be sure he sought Sabretooth for honour and not for revenge. Mariko herself refused to see him when she learned of his plan, and it hurt him deeper than he would have thought, but still he was resolved to go. He collected his scant belongings and headed for the forest, accompanied by his friend the amiable monk._

_"Are you sure you will not change your mind, Logan-san?"_

_"Yeah, I'm sure. I have to do this. I wish I could have seen Mariko before I left. Have you seen her lately?"_

_"Not since you revealed that you were leaving. She was very upset."_

_"I know. She's a sweet girl. I hate to upset her like that, but at least her father will be happy."_

_"Perhaps."_

_"When you do see her, tell her… just… Tell her I said 'goodbye', would you?"_

_"As you wish, Logan-san. Keep safe."_

_He set off at a jog, along the path through the trees, into the wood. When he finally looked back, the monk and the temple were already out of sight. Leaving this place was harder than he had anticipated, and just when he thought he'd managed it, there was Mariko, standing in his path. She had been crying._

_"So it's true!" she said, her normally sweet voice cracked and raw. How long had she spent here, bawling, to sound like that? "You were just going to leave, to find that oni that attacked you! Do we mean less to you than that monster? Do I mean less to you?" He dropped his small pack and ran to her, taking her up in his arms._

_"I'm sorry, Mariko. I have no choice. I have to go." She struggled against him, pushing him away._

_"No, you _do_ have a choice. You could die! I don't… want…" She began to cry again, glittering tears running down her cheeks and falling… "Please don't go."_

_"Mariko, I can't risk losing him. He's the only clue I have, about the missing years of my life… He might have answers about my past."_

_"I don't care about your past, Logan! I don't care who you were back where you came from. I love you now." She hugged him about the chest. "I won't let you go. You'll have to drag me along with you." He smiled softly, and easily lifted her up, breaking her grip on him, and looked her in the eyes. She whispered again, "Please don't go. Stay with me."_

_"Okay, Mariko, okay. I'll stay." The smile she graced him with then lifted his heart. Suddenly he realised that they were alone together, far out of sight of the temple, and incredibly close. The tears made her brown eyes shine beautifully._

_He dipped his head, his lips moving to meet hers, closer… closer… until at last they seemed a single shape in the forest._

------------------------------

As Logan and his Sensei strolled about the temple grounds that night, reminiscing on old times, a shadowy figure watched them from the roof. He was wrapped tightly from head to toe in dark, mottled clothes that blended perfectly with the tiles he lay on, and he wore a ninjato blade strapped across his back. The blade was quite useless as a weapon, but as with his other tools, its main function was misdirection and distraction. It was the perfect tool for a ninja.

The square-jawed gaijin passing below seemed to fit the description he had been given of the intended target. How easy would it be to sneak down, stab the man quietly and be gone before anyone noticed? The ninja was not certain, but he had been strictly instructed not to do so, and so he would not. You always did what the man with money said, after all.

He waited until the gaijin and the priest were out of sight, then a few seconds more and silently leapt down off the roof, landing so softly a bat could not have heard him. He was across the grass without leaving a footprint, and in moments he was well into the cover of the trees. When he reached the encampment, his employer was already waiting for him along with the four other ninja he had hired for the job.

"My lord samurai, there is a man living at the temple now, as you anticipated." His employer stood, bedecked in shining silver samurai armour.

"You have done well." He was an imposing figure, tall and broad across the shoulders. His upper face and eyes were concealed by a slim mask, apparently made from the same material as the rest of the armour, and combined with the shape of his silhouette it made him seem… something other than human.

"What now, lord samurai?" The Silver Samurai drew the long sword from the scabbard at his waist, gripped it in both hands and as he did so it began to glow yellow, casting eerie shadows about the camp.

"Now?" He judged the weight in his hands, and then sliced crosswise in a single swift, strong motion. Behind him, a tree fell cleanly into two halves where he had cut it. "Now we put him to sleep."

* * *

Well spotted to everyone who noticed Noichi's mistake in the previous chapter, referring to Logan as an American instead of a Canadian. I guess he didn't appreciate the difference.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan stood on an open patch of grass away from the temple, in a copse of trees, running through the budo forms that he had learned the last time he visited Japan. His eyes were closed, his breathing rhythmic and deep, his legs bent to precise angles as he performed each technique from memory. He moved agonisingly slowly, but every motion was measured, every merest twitch intentional. He flowed from one stance to another like water, never rushing himself, now dropping to one knee, now sweeping an arm upwards to block an invisible blow, now lifting a leg and setting it down again all with the same confident, restrained pace. And as he moved, his thoughts took flight, as if his body acted on its own and his mind was free for other things. Nothing stirred on his face or in his heart.

And then a voice jarred him from his concentration, bringing mind and body back together with startling speed.

"This is boring!"

Laura stood by his side, trying to copy the moves as he shifted seamlessly from one to another. Unlike her father, however, she found herself getting ahead, having to wait for him to catch up so that she could see what happened next. And she was getting frustrated. Taking care of mostly well-adjusted mutant children was hard enough, Logan thought, without the added complications of horrible mental trauma and a familial relationship. He was completely out of his depth.

"Remember, breathe in through your nose…"

"… and out through your mouth, I heard you the first time. But this whole thing is stupid! It's as if we're learning how to fight with weapons, except without the weapons. _And_ I don't need weapons training anyway. These moves would be useless in a real fight."

"It's not about real fighting. The kata's supposed to teach you about patience and self discipline. Who knows, it might even help you control that temper of yours."

"Ha! Look who's talking!" He sniffed at her.

"What, me? I'm the model of calm."

"I still say this is boring," Laura muttered under her breath, and in response Logan let out a low rumble.

"Okay, fine. I guess we could go down into town for a while. You get your…" He stopped, and his nostrils flared. She sniffed the air as well, but sensed nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It's probably nothing. Since yesterday I've been smelling lotus blossoms, except there aren't any lotus plants around here."

A small wooden dart shot out of the trees and hit him in the neck. Both father and daughter sprang into action, running for cover behind the thicker tree trunks and seeking shelter where available, but they weren't fast enough to avoid the barrage that followed. Darts seemed to rain down from all directions, striking Wolverine in the arms and chest and legs. Laura found one such dart in her calf, and pulled it out. It was some sort of drug, but her healing factor had already compensated. But then they hadn't been aiming for her, they'd been aiming for Wolverine, who now crouched in a small hollow across from her. He looked like a pincushion, and furiously brushed them all out onto the ground. He was snarling, pumping himself up into a rage, and his claws were clearly visible. And yet, when she looked closer, she could see his wooziness - his head lolled, his eyes drifted in and out of focus. Being angry helped him fight it.

A dark shape, a ninja, dropped out of the trees just above Wolverine's hiding spot and stabbed downwards with a sword. It stuck in the wood and was left there, but Wolverine leapt upwards with a roar, tackling the ninja and then swiping with all six claws at once. The ninja jumped back to avoid him, and barely avoided being disembowelled. They'd attacked her father… how _dare_ they attack her father?

More ninja had appeared, five in total, all surrounding Wolverine. Despite his ferocious attacks, they seemed to be untouchable, until it became clear that they were not attacking him at all. Their entire focus was in evading his claws, and making him expend his energy and work the dart poison deeper into his system. Laura charged at them, screaming, claws out and gleaming in the sunlight. They were clothed in dark clothes, greens and browns to match their surroundings, leaving only their eyes exposed, and they each smelled like lotus blossoms, having used that perfume to conceal themselves. It was clear they were not expecting a second target as soon as her foot claw took one of them in the shoulder.

Just as the ninja started to regroup and defend against this unanticipated new onslaught, a new figure stepped out of the trees and demanded in a low voice,

"Enough!"

------------------------------

Wolverine was angry. He didn't know who these people were who'd attacked him and his daughter, but he was going to make them pay. With his unbreakable adamantium claws he stabbed and swung at them, but they were like shadows dancing around him in circles. It didn't help that his vision had become blurry, and he'd noticed also that his arms were moving rather sluggishly. What had been in those darts?

"Enough!"

Suddenly the ninja broke away, forming a circle around him and Laura. She spun to face the source of the voice, a tall man who stepped away from the tree line. Blinking repeatedly to help him focus, Wolverine took in the full suit of samurai armour, all polished silver with articulated plates on his shoulders and legs. He took in the long katana blade that the warrior held in one hand, and he took in the crests on his forehead and chest. What he saw shocked him.

"Shingen? It's not possible…" The samurai laughed at him.

"No? Then look closer, Logan-san." He did so, squinting even though his pupils refused to focus. This warrior was taller than Shingen had been - so tall, in fact, that Wolverine's eyes were barely level with his chest - and he was far more muscular. It was the voice that Wolverine recognised first, neurons firing to let him know that somewhere in his long life he had heard it before.

"Kenichi Harada? What's this about?"

"Honour demands that you suffer for the insult you did to my family, Logan-san! The Silver Samurai will make you suffer!"

"Listen, bub, I don't know what you're talking about. I never insulted any of you, but if you want a fight then bring it on. Or had you forgotten about these?" He held up his clawed hands, displaying three metals blades on either side of his face. Kenichi, now the Silver Samurai, merely sneered at him. In his very bearing he exuded contempt and arrogance.

"I have forgotten nothing, gaijin! I remember what you are capable of doing, and I remember what weariness can do to you. The sedatives you have been given would be enough to fell several normal men, and for you I suspect they will at least be enough to induce many days' worth of fatigue. It will make our duel that much more… interesting."

Wolverine bared his teeth as he realised what Kenichi had planned, while Kenichi simply hunkered down into a fighting stance, bringing his katana in front of his body and gripping the hilt in both hands.

"I have a surprise for you, Logan-san," the Samurai continued. "After your last visit to Japan, I discovered that I possessed my own mutant abilities." As Wolverine stared, the entire length of the blade was surrounded in a pulsing yellow-orange light. The Samurai lifted it over his head. "I can charge any weapon with special energy, making it strong enough to cut through anything. It can cut through you."

Wolverine grinned. "We'll see about that." His bones were lined with adamantium, and didn't they say nothing could cut adamantium? It was time to see if that was true.

The two warriors charged at once, and as one they brought their blades into play. The claws going up met the sword on its way down, and they collided with a resounding clang. In the middle, they pushed against each other, equally matched, neither blade able to break through the other. The Samurai was visibly shocked by his apparent limitation, and Wolverine took advantage of the moment to score three grooves across Samurai's silver chest plate.

Samurai recovered, though, before he could land another blow, readjusting his grip and slashing downwards again. Wolverine was slower this time, the drugs beginning to take their full effect, but he caught the blow on his claws again. Again and again the sword ricocheted off his impenetrable adamantium barrier, loud as a ringing gong.

------------------------------

Laura, the weapon X23, watched the pair of them dance backwards and forwards. Wolverine's strength and speed ebbed slowly away, and he was giving more ground each time. Always the Samurai came closer to inflicting that lethal wound, and X23 knew she had to intervene to help her father. As she moved, though, the five ninjas broke from their standing circle and intercepted her. They were in her way! She ground her teeth as the first stepped into her path.

"Nobody gets in my way!" She moved like a girl possessed, slashing at their dark swift forms again and again and again and again, shredding weapons and clothes, and slicing through flesh that came too close, always pushing forward, towards her father. Wolverine _needed_ her help, and she'd see he got it if she had to fight a hundred ninjas!

In the distance, X23 saw the Silver Samurai's sword slice across Wolverine's chest. The elder mutant roared in pain, fell to his knees, and then collapsed on the bare ground, beaten. The sword's energy disappeared and the Samurai, his armour scratched and dented in places, sheathed it at his waist. Bending stiffly, he lifted the unconscious Wolverine and slung him easily over one shoulder.

"I am finished here," he called to the ninja, then walked off into the trees.

By now the five ninjas had suffered such a beating that three of them had to support the other two, although they were all still awake. One snatched a handful of pellets from a pocket and hurled them at X23's feet, where they exploded and surrounded her with a smokescreen so thick that it blinded her totally and filled her nose with the smell of burning sulphur. She coughed and spluttered and moved out of it as quickly as she could, but by the time the air was clear enough to see the trees again, Silver Samurai, the ninjas and Wolverine had all disappeared.

She tried to follow, but they hadn't left any visible trail and the sulphur prevented her from finding a scent. She vowed to find them, somehow. She knew the Samurai's name, Kenichi Harada, and that was a lead to follow.

And when she caught up with them, they'd wish they had never messed with _her_ family!


	5. Chapter 5

"Hmm… So Kenichi Harada has learned that Logan-san is back in Japan. That is most troubling."

Laura's muscles tensed in her legs, and she forced them to relax. Her hands were clenched so hard that they looked white as the moon, and she was worried that any second all six of her metal claws would shoot out and damage something… or someone. Her anger boiling in her belly made her feel she might spew fire, and there was nothing right now that she desired more than to jump up, chase down the one that stolen her father and slice him open for his impudence.

However, she did not know where they had gone - they'd left no trail that she could follow, which was impressive given her skills, and she knew so little about the local country that she did not even know how to start looking for this 'Kenichi Harada', whoever he was. So, although every instinct demanded action, she was still, quiet and kneeling in front of the bald monk that Logan had called "Sensei". His eyes were closed in deep thought, and his forehead more wrinkled than usual in concentration.

"Who is Kenichi Harada?" Laura asked after a time. The monk opened his eyes, and a knowing smile flitted across his lips.

"So impatient," he said, shaking his head in mock displeasure. "Just like your father."

"Please…" 'Please' was a word she had little used in her life. "I need to get him back."

"I do not know if I can help you," said the monk, "but I do not believe that Kenichi-san will seek to do Logan-san serious harm… At least, not until they have had some time to talk."

"Then you _do_ know him?"

"Yes. He is the son of Shingen Harada. He was with his father the last time Logan-san visited here."

"But father only told me about his daughter. There was a son too?"

"Yes. Kenichi-san was very young, younger than you are now, and very shy. He and Logan-san never spoke to each other, although Kenichi-san was very curious about him. Many times Kenichi-san would follow him around, and run away if Logan-san ever tried to speak to him."

"Then why does he hate him so much now?"

"I fear that is a long tale."

------------------------------

_The young Kenichi hurried along the path as fast as his small legs would carry him. He was trying to follow the foreigner, Logan, who was out walking with one of the monks. Kenichi's father was quite insistent that Kenichi stay away from the man, although Mariko seemed to spend considerable time with him without being struck down by parental or divine intervention. So Kenichi's curiosity about the man, and foreigners in general, had won out over his desire to follow his father's wishes._

_He finally caught up to them as they circled the courtyard, keeping a distance behind them so that they wouldn't see him - that was all part of the game. A handful of other monks were doing martial arts in the courtyard, arranged in rows and working through their moves at a snail's pace. Every one of them was in perfect time, fists curving slowly through the air. While the two men watched, Kenichi crept a little closer to hear what they were saying, even though they spoke English words that he could not understand._

_"What's this?" said Logan._

_"They are doing kata, Logan-san. It is… movements, that…" For the first time, his English failed him. Under his breath he mumbled something in Japanese, arranging his thoughts, and then said, "Ah, yes. It is meditation through movement. It is good for self-discipline."_

_"Huh. I _could_ use some self-discipline."_

_"You are welcome to join in, if you wish."_

_"No, I wouldn't know where to start."_

_"I could teach you, Logan-san." The two set off again, and went to pass the rock garden. Logan always liked the rock garden, having never seen one before… a sea of tranquil sand, its harmony broken and reshaped around a collection of large, amorphous rocks, represented by the sometimes straight, sometimes curved lines in the sand where it had been conscientiously raked._

_This time, however, Logan failed to notice the nuanced beauty of the place. His attention was focussed entirely on the slatted wooden bridge over the sand, where Mariko stood facing her father, Shingen Harada, her gaze cast down to the floor while he glared at her with hard eyes. They were arguing. Or rather, they were emphatically not arguing. There were no raised voices, no signs of defiance, no clear disagreements. To a casual observer, it would seem like a normal conversation, although perhaps overly formal for a father and daughter. But Logan could sense something troubling below the surface. There was anger there. The monk could sense it too, and his first thought was to scuttle back and chase Kenichi away so he would not see. Would the boy even understand?_

_They were too far away for even Logan to hear the words… and perhaps that was why he stayed. If he could hear, it would have felt like an invasion of privacy, and in Mariko's case he probably would have felt ashamed of it. But here, out of earshot, he was merely satisfying his curiosity. He watched the two of them speak. Shingen's tone was gruff, as he always seemed to be, and Mariko was highly deferent, although she wished to be otherwise. When the conversation ended, Shingen said something at last that made her look up and meet his glare with her own - the only eye contact he had seen between them. Then she spun on her heels and walked away. Shingen turned and walked in the opposite direction a moment later._

_When Logan asked Mariko about it later, she went quiet for a long time, and then said softly,_

_"You should not have seen that."_

_"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"_

_"No, it is my shame. It is not proper to argue with one's own father."_

_"Was it about me?"_

_"No, Logan-san, it… It was… It did _start_ because he criticised me for spending time with you, but it was more complicated than that. My father is not a bad man, but he is proud. For many years our family has been in decline, in power and prestige, and my father considers this an insult to our family's honour, and to his own personal honour. He is not a bad man, but to correct the situation he has begun to work with bad men. I have tried to convince him to stop, but he cannot see that by working with these criminals that he himself has caused the most damage to his honour. I feel helpless."_

_"You don't need to feel helpless, Mariko. I'll be there. I'll help you. Whatever you need, I'll help you."_

------------------------------

The chamber in which Logan woke had a distinctly 'dungeon' feel to it. It did not look like many traditional views of dungeon. It was bright and clean, not dank, and there were no conspicuous instruments of torture arrayed around the room in menacing positions. In fact, it was above ground and quite nicely decorated in what Logan considered the "traditional Japanese" style. The colour red dominated. There were even straw tatami mats on the floor.

Concentrating on the decorations took his mind off the pain, and there was a lot of it. The wound on his chest had healed up nicely, leaving only a wire-thin scar that would disappear in few days, but it still stung. Everything hurt now, in a dull ache that permeated every joint and muscle. It was the same throbbing pain that had crippled him on his last visit to Japan two decades earlier, but he'd grown used to the feeling in the intervening years. He suspected that, if not for the fact that he was firmly manacled to a table in the middle of the room, he could have pushed through the pain and the continuing tiredness and it would hardly slow him down at all. Yep, except for the manacles, he'd already be making his escape. Of course, for as long as he _was_ chained there, he might as well get some rest and build his strength up.

Before too long, his captor appeared in person and Logan craned his neck to see. Kenichi still wore his impressive, shining armour, although without the helmet and mask he had worn before. Logan growled at the young warrior, firmly of the opinion that kidnappers deserved no courtesy.

"What's this about, Kenny?"

"I am completing my father's legacy. To honour his memory, you must die at my hands."

"What did I ever do to you, or your father?"

"You don't know? You destroyed my family! It is because of you that Mariko is no longer with us!"

"Listen, bub, Mariko wasn't happy with your family long before I showed up."

"Perhaps, but what happened to her during your last visit was your fault. Do you deny it?" Logan's silence in search of a response spoke volumes.

"No," he said eventually, quieter than before. "I'm sorry for what happened back then. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"But it did, and now you must pay for it." He held up a small cutting blade, glowing with that same mutant energy from earlier. "Shall we see just how much you are capable of regenerating, gaijin?"

------------------------------

_In this time, Logan learned that lengthy dance of the kata from his new Sensei, his friend the monk. Sometimes Mariko joined them, or Kenichi watched, but most often it was only the two of them. At first it had been only Sensei, displaying the motions, pausing occasionally to make comment on stance and position and meaning. Soon, Logan felt confident enough to join in and mimic him, although Sensei still sometimes helped or corrected him when he faltered. The first time his student had completed a routine without aid, he had been both pleased and proud._

_"Well done, Logan-san! I think you have some natural talent at this, or you have done it before."_

_"I think I just have a good teacher, Sensei."_

_Now they stood going through the movements together, in perfect harmony, allowing their minds to contemplate higher things while their bodies performed the now familiar techniques. This time, however, they could not finish, because they were attacked by a crazy man with a sword._

_It was lucky that he had screamed as he ran at them, katana overhead. Without the anguished cry, Logan doubted he would have dodged the blade in time. Even so he felt the air rush by him. Usually he'd let loose his claws and maul his attacker, but he felt oddly calm at the moment, so he kept them restrained._

_Shingen Harada pulled his katana free from the ground and levelled it again at Logan. He was in quite a state, Logan noticed, breathing heavily, his hard eyes wilder than normal, and his hair falling out of the usually tidy topknot. His long sleeves were pinned back, and his divided skirt hitched up and tied by cords to the waist. Something had clearly upset him, deeply enough that he would risk dishonour by attacking his guest. Nor did he seem to care that his son Kenichi watched them, eyes filled with evident curiosity._

_Sensei threw himself between the two men, speaking in rapid Japanese, pleading with Shingen to stop his actions. Shingen hardly heard him. He stared at Logan, then addressed him directly, in perfect, if slightly accented, English._

_"What have you done to my daughter, savage?"_

_"I never touched your daughter, bub, and I… wait, what's happened to Mariko?"_

_"Her room is empty. She has disappeared."_

_Before Shingen had even finished speaking, he was entirely out of Logan's mind. He ran off, brushing past the old man and ignoring the sword he held, towards the place set aside for Mariko's sleeping. If something had happened to her…_

_His eyes scanned the room for clues in moments, but he needn't have bothered. The claw marks on the floor were hardly needed to confirm his suspicions, not when the perpetrator's scent had overwhelmed him even before he had entered the room. He let out a long, low growl._

_"Sabretooth…" If only he had not let Mariko convince him to stay. If he'd just left as he'd intended, she would not have been swept up in this. Sabretooth wouldn't have… If that monster had hurt a hair on her head he'd regret it, so Logan promised over his claws._

_Sensei and Shingen were waiting for him when he emerged from the room again. Shingen looked less frenzied now. He had fixed his hair, and let down his sleeves and skirt._

_"It was Sabretooth," Logan told them. "I'm going after them. He'll be waiting for me. This is something I have to do on my own." This did not please either Japanese man, though it was Shingen that objected most strongly._

_"No! I am her father. _I_ must save her. You will lead me to them."_

------------------------------

Sensei fell silent in his tale.

"Sabretooth kidnapped Mariko? What happened? Is that why Kenichi hates my father so much?"

"You must understand that Shingen-san believed that Logan-san was responsible for Sabretooth's actions, and before his death he likely passed this belief on to his son." Laura growled. If that monster had hurt her father, he'd regret it.

"If only I knew where to find them, I could get him back."

"Ah," said Sensei. "Perhaps I can help you after all. Kenichi-san owns a large estate in the country a short distance from here. I suspect that is where he will have taken Logan-san."

"Where is it?"

"I wish you would not rush into this. Is there no way I can convince you to stay?" Laura shook her head.

"He's my father," she explained. "I have to save him." Sensei nodded slowly, understanding and not at the same time. Then he sighed.

"Very well, I will show you the way."


	6. Chapter 6

The ninja crouched in the shadows at the corner of the roof, watching the walls encircling the Harada estate. Harada himself was inside with his hostage, in a private room at the centre of the building, and for as long as he did not wish to be disturbed he had retained the services of the ninja and his associates to guard the perimeter. It wasn't that he expected company, but Harada had not become as powerful as he was without considerable caution.

A shadow moved on the grass below, in the gap between a pair of trees. So there _was_ to be company after all. He pitied whoever it was, moving so carelessly, and tightened his grip on the building's eaves before jumping to the ground.

There was a rustle next to his ear, and a female voice whispered,

"Boo."

He spun around, lashed out with both hands, but it was too late. A fist collided with his face, sending his whole world to black.

X23 caught the body before it could fall off the roof and hid it in the shadows. It was amazing how quickly she fell back on her Hydra training. Finding the hidden ninja guards hadn't been easy. She'd tried following their scent, but there were lotus blossoms all over this complex. Fortunately, for all that they were masters of concealment, they couldn't conceal themselves from a living weapon, and that's what she was right now.

She was a weapon, running on rage, and aimed squarely at the man who had stolen her father.

------------------------------

"My father was never the same after Mariko was gone," said Kenichi, wiping off the blade in his hand. "The loss consumed him until he died. You did that to him."

"You're just a frightened boy, Kenny," hissed Logan through gritted teeth, "standing in Shingen's shadow. You think just because you put on daddy's armour that makes you like him? It doesn't."

"Be silent!"

"The reason Mariko resented your father was because he ignored his code, but you… You don't even have a code. You just have a… a twisted relic. Where is the honour in what you do?"

Again the knife plunged into his side and out, and once again the wound sealed itself up. Logan laughed at his futile attempts at intimidation.

"Did I hit a nerve, bub? I'm amazed Shingen didn't disown you, or did he just never learn what you're capable of?"

"I honoured my father!"

"Yeah? The way you honour his memory?" Kenichi raised the knife again, but before he could strike a guard entered and called out,

"Harada-san, there is an intruder!"

"Take care of it!"

But he could not, because at that moment X23 leapt in through the open doorway and knocked him out cold.

"Get away from my father," she hissed at the kidnapper, claws out and ready to strike.

"Stay back! This is a matter of honour!"

"No," she told him. "It's about family. It's always about family."

------------------------------

_Wolverine breathed in deep. The scent was stronger now. They were getting closer. He pointed._

_"This way."_

_Behind him, Shingen Harada followed. Shingen wore a magnificent suit of samurai armour, which was polished so bright it shone like silver. As Sensei had explained it, the armour was an heirloom that had passed through many generations of the Harada family, and for each new wearer it was adjusted for better fit. Frankly, thought Wolverine, it would be more impressive if he not had to wait while the old samurai ceremoniously donned the armour, wasting precious time that Wolverine would have rather used for tracking Mariko._

_"We're close."_

_When he passed through the line of trees on the next rise, the first sound he heard was Mariko screaming at him._

_"Logan-san, look out!" He dived to the side as Sabretooth brought a tree down on top of the spot where he stood, then tossed it aside._

_"So you finally made it," the old mutant grumbled. "For a while I was worried these priests had made you soft. Are you ready to be a man at last?"_

_"Ready when you are, pops." Wolverine's metal claws slid out with a 'snikt', and he heard Mariko gasp as she saw them. She was tied to a tree, watching the two men square off against each other. For now he had to ignore her, concentrate on beating Sabretooth. He could try to explain the claws later._

_"Wait!" Shingen emerged through the trees, demanding that the two fighters stand down. He stepped between them, facing Sabretooth, and drew his sword in a fluid motion._

_"Release my daughter!" Sabretooth merely laughed at the posturing._

_"You brought this old fool to protect you, runt? Okay then. I _could_ use a warm up." He turned to Shingen. "When I'm done with you, there won't be enough left for your girl to cry over."_

_Shingen stepped forward, slashing with the katana once, twice. Sabretooth dodged both easily, and then batted him aside with a large fist._

_"Father!"_

_Kneeling down over the body, Sabretooth prepared for a killing blow, pulled back his clawed hand… and was tackled by Wolverine. The two rolled over each other down the hill, away from Mariko and Shingen, wrestling all the way. When they landed at the bottom they broke apart to regroup, tried to stare each other down._

_"No SHIELD soldiers to protect you now. How long do you think you'll survive?"_

_"Longer than you, bub."_

_They charged again. Sabretooth swiped with his sharp black nails, but Wolverine ducked below and swung upwards. He barely caused a graze when Sabretooth twisted out of the way, and retaliated with a jackhammer-strength blow to Wolverine's stomach, doubling him over. A second strike would have followed, but Wolverine threw himself forward, tackling Sabretooth backwards, sending them both sprawling when Sabretooth's long coat caught on an exposed root. Wolverine straddled his chest, pummelling him about the face and neck, pouring every ounce of his fury into the volley of punches. Before he used his claws to stab downwards, Sabretooth managed to kick him off with long legs and get to his feet._

_"Getting tired, Wolverine?"_

_"You ain't that lucky."_

_Wolverine dived forwards, all claws outstretched in front of him, and he caught Sabretooth in the chest. Pulling one arm back for a second slice, he was unprepared when Sabretooth clutched hold of his other arm, swung him around and hurled him against a broad tree trunk. He waited this time, before rising, holding off until Sabretooth was standing over him, ready to stamp down on his back, then spun upwards, carving three deep grooves in the tree and watching as its entire weight landed on Sabretooth's head. He tried to push it off but an added weight told him that Logan was now squatting on top of it._

_"I don't need protecting from you. I can beat you without any soldiers at my back. Face it, pops, you're old news."_

_"Maybe…" Veins popped out of his neck as he lifted both the tree and Wolverine with a single push and threw them off. Then he bounded up the hill to where Mariko was still tied. "Let's see what you say when I kill your girlfriend in front of you."_

_"Mariko, no!" Wolverine watched in helpless horror, too far behind and pinned down by tons of wood. Sabretooth reared up in front of Mariko, silencing her terrified scream by gripping her around the neck with a single hand. Snapping the cords around her he hoisted her up, squeezed her throat harder… harder… choking the life out of her._

_A sword sliced down on his arm, and he dropped her instinctively. Shingen, on his feet and having reclaimed his sword, readied another blow, but Sabretooth had had enough. There was no sport here any more. Calling out a promise that "This isn't over, Wolverine!" he bounded away and vanished through the trees. Shingen knelt down to his daughter, who coughed and spluttered on the ground, tenderly feeling the red weal the beast had left on her neck._

_She still sat there, gasping for breath, when Wolverine scrabbled up beside her. Before he could move to her, however, Shingen was in his path, once again setting his hard eyes on the foreigner._

_"We were in an honourable duel! You should not have interfered." Wolverine could only stare incredulously._

_"He would have killed you."_

_"Then I would have died with honour. It was not your place to decide." He held up the sword again. "Now I must fight you to reclaim what you took from me."_

_"Father!" Mariko was staring at him, now on her feet. Slowly, Shingen let the sword drop. "You shame yourself. Logan-san endangered himself to save us both, and you insult him for it!"_

_"Daughter, please do not stop me. This gaijin…"_

_The sound rang like a thunderclap through the woods. All three of them were shocked, and then Shingen lifted a hand to his cheek, where Mariko had slapped him. Emotions streamed across the old man's face… surprise and hurt and disappointment. And then they were gone, and his features were stern and schooled once again._

_"You would choose this freak over your own family?"_

_"I would choose honour over this path you have sent us down, father." Bridling, but unable to argue with her, Shingen turned about and marched away. Mariko, aware that she had now severed all ties with her family and feeling somewhat apprehensive about it, turned to the man who still stood with her. "Logan-san," she said, "please take me home."_

------------------------------

X23 allowed Kenichi to attack first, waiting statue-still for his onslaught. There were times for berserker rage, and there were times when it was best to outthink your opponent. Admittedly, in X23's opinion there were far more of the former, but this, she judged, was one of the latter. Kenichi unsheathed his katana from its position at his waist, tossing aside his small scalpel, and ran at her, his silver armour softly jingling. She continued to wait, every muscle in readiness, until she saw the sword curving towards her in a horizontal path at her knee height. Just before it hit, she flipped back onto her hands out of range, and then kicked forward with both feet, catching him in the chin. He staggered back, spat out a tooth, and then charged again, but by now she was on the run. He chased her to the wall, but rather than cornering her she used the panelled surface to launch herself up into the air, surprising him when she came down claws first. With perfect aim she hit the joins holding on the heavy shoulder plates, and they hit the floor.

"I will teach you some respect, girl!"

"You don't teach respect, you earn it."

It was clear that Kenichi was growing flustered and angry at his inability to hit the nimble X23. His attacks were becoming more erratic, but also faster and stronger. His glowing katana cut through his own decorations, shredding hanging pictures and statues and walls alike. Repeatedly she darted into range, scored a few strikes on his body and then moved back before he could retaliate. Once she ducked in close when he brought up his sword arm, diving underneath it, but he caught her a nasty blow with his elbow and she did not try again. She scratched dozens of criss-crossing lines on his armour, marring forever the centuries-old heirloom of his clan.

Deciding that the fight with the Samurai had gone on long enough, X23 went to free her father. With a single claw she effortlessly snapped the tether holding one of his arms, but this proved a great mistake. Kenichi took advantage of her brief distraction, putting all of his strength behind a powerful overhead swing of his sword, and X23 only barely managed to catch it with her left hand claw. When he pushed down harder, she brought her right hand around to compensate, but it wasn't enough. Even with both claws together trying to force themselves upwards, he was stronger than she was. Slowly, ever so slowly, the glowing katana moved down, ever closer to her face. With all of his weight pressing down on the sword edge, X23 could feel her arms and knees about to buckle, despite the adamantium that ran through her bones.

Desperate now, X23 lashed out with her right leg. Her foot claw stabbed him in the hip, sliding in the join of his armour, and he collapsed to the ground, howling.

Her opponent beaten, X23 went to slit the final chain keeping Logan bound to the table. He'd already used his freed hand to break the shackles on his other hand and one of his ankles. She half lifted him off of the table, and supported him on his unsteady feet when he was on the floor. They made their way towards the exit, but before they had taken three steps Kenichi looked up at them from where he'd fallen, holding his thigh to stem the blood.

"Are you happy, Logan-san? You and your daughter have destroyed what was left of the Harada legacy." They turned back to face him.

"Not even you can blame me for this, Kenny. This is what revenge gets you." Kenichi barked a rueful laugh.

"You know," he said, "even though Mariko left us and disowned her family name, our father still wanted her to have half of everything he owned before he died. I never understood why that was. Why would he leave me, his loyal son, with only a fraction of what was rightfully mine? I have not spoken to my sister since that day."

"That's what this has all been about, isn't it? This was never about honour. It's not even about me driving a wedge between you and your sister. It's all been about you feeling like second best. Your father never stopped loving her. She was strong, and she stood up for what she believed in, even if that meant standing up to him. Shingen respected that, in his own way. And all the time you were the loyal little son, trying to follow in daddy's footsteps, and that didn't get you any respect at all. I'm sorry about your issues, Kenny, but next time you feel like taking out your problems on someone else, leave me out of it. Cos, bub, I'm not to blame." As Logan spoke, Kenichi's face fell, defeated and miserable. Still, X23 could not resist a parting shot.

"And if you ever come after my father again, I'll chop you into fish bait."

Again the two foreigners made their way to the door, to try and find a way out of the building, but this time they were stopped by four ninja blocking their path.

"I knew I should have gone after all of them," muttered X23 below her breath, and then both she and her father moved into fighting position, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Wobbling on his feet just for a moment, Logan could not help but crack a smile, and glance over to his daughter.

"Having fun, kid?" She grinned back.

"Yeah."

"Heh. Me too."

But they prepared for a clash that never came, because Kenichi called out to the ninja to withdraw. "Let them go," he said in Japanese. "Just let them go."

Kenichi watched the pair hobble between the confused ninja, close as a father and child should be. And just before they disappeared out of sight, he thought he heard the young one mutter,

"Spoilsport."


	7. Chapter 7: Epilogue

Laura and Logan emerged into the sunlight outside the Harada family estate, and made their way to the gate that led out into the wider world. By now Logan was trying to stand upright without Laura's support, although she remained there to catch him when he wavered. Fighting was easy when compared to the quiet moments afterwards, when father and daughter were expected to display some kind of tenderness. Laura went first.

"Are you… okay?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Just gotta sleep it off."

There was another pause as she helped him down the steps to the road.

"You, uh… you did good in there, kid. Kept your cool." She smiled awkwardly and shrugged it off.

"Sometimes you need to know when to control your temper."

"Yeah."

"How did you find me, anyway?"

"Good afternoon, Logan-san."

"Sensei? What are you doing here?" It was indeed the friendly, bald monk, sitting in the shade by the side of the road.

"Just waiting. Laura-san was most anxious to get to you as soon as possible, so I drove here in Tomi-san's car." He indicated the beaten-up vehicle hidden in the bushes behind him.

"You drive, Sensei?"

"It is a little skill I picked up over the years, although I have had little practice before now." Laura, having shared the journey with him, rolled her eyes but said nothing. "But I felt it was important to do so today, when I saw your daughter's concern for you. It was very touching." Logan gazed at his daughter with new appreciation, and she squirmed with embarrassment. Sensei went on, "I think I will start the car so that we can drive back to the temple. It is quite old, so it will take time." He shut the door behind him as he clambered into the driver's seat, leaving the two essentially alone on the roadside.

"Thank you," said Logan, "for coming after me."

"That's what families do, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess it is." He took a deep breath. "You know, nothing would make me happier than for you to come back with me to the Institute… but I understand if you choose not to." Again she looked sheepish.

"I just… I don't think I'm ready for that yet. I'm sorry. Maybe someday I will." Logan nodded. That was the way it was.

Suddenly the engine choked and spluttered into life, and Sensei put his head out of the door. "It is time."

Just before buckling himself into the passenger seat, Logan turned to Sensei and said,

"There's something I need to do before going back to America. Can you help me?"

"I expect I can."

------------------------------

_Mariko's fingers touched the tender flesh between his knuckles and traced the metal claws that lay beneath the skin._

_"I wish you had felt confident enough to tell me about these," she said. "I would not have thought any less of you."_

_"I know," Logan replied, "but I was still…"_

_"Afraid?"_

_"Yeah. Mariko, I…"_

_"You have to leave. I know. I was afraid of it." It was a hard choice he had made. But the beast within was not properly tamed, and though it upset him, he believed that Japan had done all it could for him._

_"You could come with me."_

_"No, I cannot go. My father's ambition has caused a lot of pain. I must stay and try to fix what I can here. Where will you go?"_

_"I don't know exactly. I'll quit SHIELD. I don't think I need them any more. There was a man who approached me a while ago, who said he could help me. I think I'll look for him again."_

_"Who is it?"_

_"A teacher, I think, called Charles Xavier."_

_"Will I see you again?"_

_"Maybe, someday, when I've got this" - he indicated his concealed claws - "under control."_

_"Until that day, you will always be in my heart."_

_"And you in mine."_

------------------------------

This is Tokyo, the most populous city in the world, where millions of people go about their lives. Nobody noticed the lone Canadian man enter the quiet sushi bar, except for one person. This was where Sensei had told him she would be waiting, after arranging the meeting, and there she was: Mariko, looking as radiant and divine as ever. She was older now, of course, a proper woman, mature. She looked, at a glance, as though she'd led a happy life in the intervening years, and Logan was glad of it. She dressed differently now, as well, forsaking her old kimonos for a more casual but no less stunning trouser suit, and she'd cut her hair short so that it was no longer intricately knotted atop her head, but instead hung straight about her face. Logan was surprised at how nervous he was at meeting her again, and wondered if she felt the same.

"It's really good to see you, Mariko."

"And you, Logan-san. Would you like to sit?"

"I like your new hairstyle. It suits you."

"Thank you. And you have trimmed your sideburns, I see."

He chuckled, and doffed his hat. He'd missed this, in all these years gone by. It was good to be back.

From across the street, two pairs of eyes watched the meeting.

"So she's really been alive the whole time?"

"Yes."

"She's quite pretty."

"Yes."

"Sensei, what happens now? Are they going to get back together?"

"I do not know, Laura-san. A lot of time has passed since they last met. They have a lot to talk about, and it may be that they have simply changed too much. But who can predict these things?" In her seat across the road, Mariko laughed.

"I'd like it if they did," Laura confessed. "He deserves to be happy."

"Yes, but I think he is. He has you, after all."

"I'm ready to go now. I just needed to see her, that's all."

"I understand. I am not so unfamiliar with curiosity. Come, there is a dojo near here where we can practice kata."

"Do we have to?" The old monk smiled.

"Yes."

Perhaps, after everything, it was time for a little peace.

* * *

The end of the story and I sincerely hope everyone who's got this far has enjoyed it. I want to thank everybody that's taken the time to read it, and especially those that felt strongly enough about it to leave a review. If you haven't, but you've got something to say, I'd love hearing from you.

I did somewhat change the Mariko/Harada backstory, but I believe no more than the 'Evolution' series changed the backgrounds of other characters. I feel that it's justified for the sake of the story, which is an 'X-Men: Evolution' story ahead of an 'X-Men' story, and which is primarily about Wolverine and X23. For them, I think it's worth it.


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